Shootin' the Breeze
by Cometstrike
Summary: Sequel to Beach Stalkers. Things are getting strange as Clank encounters an angry crowd of people one morning-and they're steamed at him and Ratchet for some reason. Clank finds out, and he knows that Ratchet can't find out or else he'll be pissed. After a terrible crime is committed in their house, Ratchet and Clank soon find out that this is more serious than they first thought.
1. Chapter 1

_7:28 AM Solonian time_

_Metropolis, Kerwan_

It was another young day in Metropolis.

Just over the horizon, the sun peeked over the skyline, bathing the bronze-colored city in a green, morning-esque hue. Already there were vehicles busy traversing the skies, their futuristic designs adding to the normal vision of a Metropolian style; however in every sense they acted like normal cars, buses, taxis, pizza delivery cars-trying to get to their destination as fast as they could, cutting each other off, honking furiously at one another- yet strangely there was never, or rarely, an accident that happened as result of these usual antics. Of course, a sizable number of the populace was already awake at this time, but still at least half of the city remained asleep. The residents that didn't need to be awake at this time wouldn't be awake, always going to bed with the notion that they'd wake up to the bustling skies of Metropolis.

However, in one particular residence, contained both types of these people-the early riser, always up in the early hours of the day, and the late riser, who didn't and want to get up prematurely; however in the latter's case it usually depended on what they'd been doing the night before. A project worth working on was one worth waking up early to work on.

But, it being a typical day, Ratchet and Clank certainly woke up to follow their daily norms without any uneeded hindrance.

The robot was sitting silently on the couch, reading the dictionary, when he heard a noise in the hallway. Looking up he saw Ratchet fully clothed emerge slumped over, looking like a shadowy figure from the hallway. The lombax yawned and stretched widely, then turned his head to look at Clank. "Mornin', Clank."

"Good morning, Ratchet," Clank replied, flipping a page in his book. "Do you want me to cook breakfast?"

"No, I think I got it…" And the lombax shuffled into the kitchen, his head hanging down. For a moment Clank didn't hear anything but Ratchet moving around in the kitchen, then there was a long pause and a loud crash was heard from the kitchen. What sounded like pots and pans could be heard clattering loudly to the floor. And then glass/porcelain started breaking-one plate, it sounded like- another plate-a glass cup- The robot frowned slightly, peering over the book to look in the part of the kitchen he could see. "Ratchet."

A slightly shaky voice answered, "Yeah?"

"What are you doing in there?"

"Uhhhhh...there was this stack of dishes on the cabinet and I knocked 'em over…"

Clank paused for a moment before calling back, "Does that mean you didn't wash the dishes last night?"

Ratchet's head popped out from behind a wall of the kitchen. "Err…yeah? See, I was working on some modifications last night on the Shrink Ray and I kinda dozed off at the workbench…" He chuckled nervously, seeing half of Clank's irritated look from behind his book. "Okay, I'll clean 'em up now. Oh, but I hafta drop by the store and buy," He glanced backwards into the kitchen, "-two plates and a cup." He disappeared into the kitchen as fast as he came.

Clank returned to his book, only hearing the sounds of Ratchet cleaning up and moving in the kitchen. Then, a knock came at the door. As he turned his head to it, Ratchet called, "Hey Clank, can you get that for me?"

Setting the book aside, Clank hopped off of the couch, taking his normal baby steps to the door.

One thing he noticed at first was the large group of people at his door, some robots, others different species seen across the Solana galaxy. Second, he realized that they didn't look exactly happy. Pissed was more like it. Third, he saw that most of them were grasping newspapers or swinging their infobots up and down by the necks, downright strangling the poor things as well. Clank, slightly taken back, addressed the yelling crowd, "Excuse me, but may I ask what you all are doing here? Is this some type of rally or protest?"

"You should know!" One thick-necked Rilgarian yelled angrily, brandishing his infobot and shaking it in front of Clank's face, who instinctively took a step back, his hand now on the door.

"Yeah,_ lover bot_! What's the matter with you? You got a sprocket loose or somethin?" A female Blarg asked.

"You're just in the film industry because of the sick things you do, aren't you?" A two-eyed tyhrranoid shouted, folding his arms. "And don't think we've forgotten how you and your furry _partner_ killed our mom!"

Now a bit shocked to say the least, Clank surveyed the crowd with his trademarked curiosity. "I do not understand! What is the matter you all?"

The crowd pushed a bit closer, and the volume of their bantering and threats increased slightly. Clank backed up until he was in the apartment, his hand tensing on the door. If they decided to rush him now, he'd definitely be overpowered-and he couldn't risk calling Ratchet at the possibility of angering the crowd even more, seeing how some of their anger was directed at him also. So time to take care of things himself now, it seemed.

Clank swapped out his right arm for his Geo-laser, tilting it slightly at the crowd with a firm and somewhat threatening look.

They got the message and backed up, now watching the obvious weapon attached to the robot's arm. Now that the crowd was quiet for the most part, Clank spoke carefully and calmly to them, "Now, someone will tell me, in a calm manner, why you are all here disrupting our household?"

There was a hesitant pause, then the Rilgarian who'd yelled at Clank earlier chucked his infobot at Clank, who wasn't expecting it was knocked to the ground as it crashed into him.

"There. You want someone to explain everything to you in a calm manner, there's your person," The Rilgarian told him harshly. Clank pushed himself up, staring at him in surprise and mostly shock. "…but knowing how well you handle mysteries,_ Agent_ Clank, you should be able to figure this one out yourself." He stalked away, the crowd dissipating like smoke afterwards. Clank was left standing at the door in shock, not believing what just happened. The infobot had its head hanging down, slowly repeating its constant picture snap-like sound as it blinked, obviously upset at being left by its owner. Clank turned to it. "Excuse me, but do you mind showing me your transmission? I need to see what the fuss is about."

After a moment's hesitation, the infobot opened its screen, then flickered on to a news station.

_"This is Darla Gratch, reporting for Channel 64 news." The familiar female robot was seen standing on the docks of no planet other than Pokitaru-where they'd been two days earlier. "Today, we have uncovered some shocking news regarding two of Solana's great heroes-who are also known for their second famous role in the most popular Holovid show on the air, Secret Agent Clank."_

It was here Clank felt and unknown dread, sneaking up on him from the inside. He had a _bad_ feeling about whatever this was...

_"Only days before, the titular duo was spotted on these very docks I stand on, apparently, according to eyewitness accounts, about to 'get on with their business…"_

Yes, Clank remembered those exact words leave Ratchet's mouth when he had told off the crowd in his anger, shooting off his weapon to scare them off. But besides shredding a man's hat, no one had gotten hurt. So what was it?

_"…but, according to more witnesses, they weren't doing the business that we were initially believing them to be doing…"_

Then a picture flashed on the screen.

As soon as Clank saw it, he knew what everything was about.

He knew this was going to come back and bite them in the back-end processor, or how Ratchet out it, in the ass.

Speaking of Ratchet, he heard the lombax prowling near, getting closer to him. Clank quickly closed the infobot, storing it inside of his compartment as Ratchet came up behind him. "Hey, Clank!"

The robot stiffly turned to face him, the shock still apparent on his normally passive face. Ratchet tilted his head to the side, scrunching up his eyebrows. "Uh, you okay, buddy? Who were all those people I heard at the door?"

"Journalists…"Clank said after a moment's pause. "…I turned them down, though…"

"Huh. Journalists?"

Clank nodded, hoping that Ratchet would buy it. Surely he wou-

"-man, what would they want with us? We haven't even done anything exciting lately! And that whole thing with Stuart Zurgo passed already."

Of course.

Anyway, Clank's mind was blazing with a million different thoughts. One, what would Ratchet think if he saw this, Two, what he would do to whoever did this to them, Three, how to keep him from seeing this in the first place…

Oh, boy.

Something like this would go viral in hours. When people see them on the street, they'd no doubt make a jab at what Clank had just seen on the news. Not to mention that if the general populous of one of the biggest cities knew about this, no doubt Captain Qwark knows. After all, he is the self-proclaimed "_gossip king_". Ugh.

Clank would have to keep himself and Ratchet on the low until this blew over. The attempts might be futile, but time takes a toll on even the biggest of gossip. Not to mention, stay out of Qwark's way-

Suddenly, the door busted open hard, bouncing back off of the wall.

Ratchet, with his back to the door, had pulled his wrench out as he rotated on his heel, him and Clank tensing. After a moment's pause the lombax sighed an relaxed after he saw who it was, and Clank mentally cursed his luck. Of course it was Qwark, who-

"-always had the habit of turning up during the most unnecessary moments," Ratchet said, folding his arms. In the next second, he was grabbed by the green superhero, yelping in surprise as he was hoisted into the air.

"Ratchet, my man! I didn't know you had a girl!"

"The hell are you talking about, Qwark!" Ratchet snapped. "Put me down, I haven't forgotten what you did to us two days ago!"

"What, delaying your trip to wherever you were going? Still upset by that?" Qwark asked, slight confusion passing over his face-which brightened as he added, "Come on, we have some man to man talking to do! Clank, hold down the fort, will you? We're going to go for a quick drink." And, carrying a grouchy lombax, he hightailed it out the door. Clank was frozen with one hand outstretched after him, his mouth slightly open. Then his dropped it, shaking his head. Oh, no…

Ratchet was going to be _so_ upset when he sees this….

* * *

"Qwark, why are we here? I don't drink alcoholic drinks," Ratchet muttered self consciously, his eyes darting all around. The bar was completely filled, with robots and aliens alike perched and sitting all over, occasionally taken swigs from their beverages. What caught Ratchet's attention is that most of them were staring at him in what seemed to be disgust, glaring at him from all sides. Ratchet's ears lowered in his uneasiness, and Qwark noticed.

"Hey, there, don't be shy! You have no reason to be ashamed!" The super hero stated, scoping the area ahead and looking for seats.

Ratchet cocked an eyebrow, looking up at Qwark. "What are you talking about?"

To his surprise and irritation, he was hoisted up again by Qwark and placed on a bar stool. He was soon joined by Qwark, who turned towards the bartender. "Two, please. And, as you know, free of charge."

The bartender, a squat Blargian man, nodded. "Of course. Two intergalactic heroes deserve not to pay for their drinks…how about I spice 'em up, just for you two?

* * *

**A/N**

**Ah, beginning chapter-in the next one things get exciting :D**

**These chapters will be long, just to say. And there will be more than three. **

_**Rreeeevieewwsss, pleaase! **_


	2. Chapter 2

So yeaahhh...this is the chapter where Ratchet gets drunk...

Rated T for some swearing by a drunk lombax

* * *

Ratchet, his ears splayed out, was watching the bartender the entire time while he was speaking. He felt really uncomfortable here. Everyone seemed really shifty, not to mention mean-but they seemed to be hostile to him and him only, completely disregarding Qwark.

"Qwark, you still haven't told me why you kidnapped me and took me to a bar. And I told you, I don't drink!"

"We're here for a little talk, and don't worry, he won't give you anything that'll make you tipsy while I'm here," Qwark told Ratchet. "But…Ratchet, we have our ups and downs in life, right?"

"_Yeeaaahhh…._" Ratchet said, not really understanding what he was getting at.

"And sometimes, we make decisions as popular figures that our fans may not like, right?"

"Uh, huh, especially in your case. I never had to 'flush myself to freedom'," Ratchet joked with a laugh, seeing Qwark's embarrassed look.

"Some decisions include the ones we make with people we consider our lovers, right?"

_WHOA_, that escalated quickly.

Ratchet's eyes widened. "Where the hell did you get anything about lovers? Where-"

Suddenly the bartender returned, placing their drinks in front of them. "I think the youngster is in denial, Captain. Better take it easy on him."

"Sure thing, Rob, and thanks! I'll make sure your paycheck's 50% higher this month, okay?"

Ratchet's suspicious eyes observed the drink in front of him; it was colored a maroonish-orange, and was fizzling slightly as he watched. He paused, catching the citrusy scent of oranges and lemons. Pulling the drink closer to him (it was a pretty big one, about the size of two large coffee mugs) he took a hesitant sip. Glancing over at Qwark, he saw that half of his drink was already gone. The green superhero clapped him on the back, almost knocking the small lombax off of his seat. "Come on, Ratchet, it's not gonna waste you!"

Ratchet squinted at Qwark, before finally turning and taking a real drink from the cup.

"Well?" Qwark pressed. "Is it good, or is it good?"

The lombax pursed his lips slightly, actually liking the orange-y taste. It didn't taste that bad, actually.

"It's…good," Ratchet told him, taking a longer drink before turning his attention to Qwark again. "Now, tell me what's going on. Is there something I should know?"

Qwark hesitated, actually thinking what he was about to do; he didn't want to be on the lombax's receiving end of anger, and from the looks of it, it seemed that Ratchet was either clueless or in denial. Eh, wouldn't surprise him-Ratchet was always a bit on the slow side. Qwark rerouted his initial conversation, to a more casual but still hinting one.

"Well…I just wanted to know if you had any…love interests…" Qwark asked, tapping his two pointer fingers together. Ratchet's eyebrow raised up again as he stared over the rim of his beverage at the large man sitting across from him. Lowering the mug and licking his lips, he replied, "I dunno what you're gettin' at, Qwark, but no, I *hic* don't. 'scuse me."

Qwark shrugged. "Well, I mean, I've heard some rumors…so I thought that you had some girl somewhere."

"Oh, those rumors again," Ratchet held his drink with both hands, this time chugging the it down until it was completely gone. He waved the bartender over. "Refill, please," He looked at Qwark. "I get those *hic* all the time, it's no big deal. Usually concerns me and Sasha, or if I'm in *hic* in Polaris, me and Tawlyn." He chuckled, and for a brief moment his eyes unfocused and his body jerked as he hiccuped again.

"Oh, really? Well, I was under different impressions…" Qwark hinted. "Like, a robot."'

Ratchet cocked his head to the side. He wasn't even bothering to hold his ears up anymore, and they sagged to the side as his head tilted. "Robot?" He reached out and received his refilled drink. Taking a mouthful from it, he set it on the table slightly unsteadily. "Uh, I don't know how I'd work out with a girl robot. I kinda gave up on robots after Courtney Gears completely *hic* blew me off when I was a teenager." He blinked, one eye closing and opening slightly faster than the other, then he picked his drink up; To Qwark's complete surprise, the lombax drained this one faster than he did the other.

"Uh…" Qwark started uncertainly, finally noticing Ratchet's uncharacteristic slouching position. No longer was he alert, and sprawling against the counter he appeared to stop caring that he was in a strange, unfamiliar place with death glares being shot at him at all sides. The lombax lifted his head up, and his mouth opened in a lopsided fashion as he spoke.

"Wah, what is it?" Ratchet asked, handing his empty glass to the bartender, who looked equally as startled as Qwark.

"…nothing…but," Qwark twiddled his thumbs; he decided to drop it. Ratchet was probably acting like this to throw him off. "…so you're only interested in females?"

_That_ caught Ratchet's attention. He rolled his eyes. "Uh, yeah of course. What, do you *hic* think otherwise?" He giggled again, a bit louder, and it turned into peals of laughter. "If ya do, that's ridiculous! Heeh hahahahah!"

"Well, I mean I didn't think that!" Qwark said quickly. "I just heard it from some…where."

Waving his hand dismissively at the superhero Ratchet hiccuped again as he was handed another refilled glass. He gulped down the drink quickly, and after he finished he belched loudly, earning him applauds from across the bar. The lombax held up his hand, sticking out to the side like a scarecrow instead of straight up. "Hey, 'nother of those, Rob, please…."

Qwark finally realized that Ratchet's behavior wasn't an act, but if anything he was confused- the drink he'd ordered them weren't alcoholic to most species, he'd had more than Ratchet was downing now but he'd never come close to getting drunk.

Ratchet's glazed eyes found a green blob sitting in front of him. "Oh, hey, *hic* it's Cabdain Qwack! How's thign's dude?" He snatched his glass from the bartender. "Thanks, bro, join the Bro Army, will ya? We need more members." He tipped the drink at the Blargian man, then guzzled it down quickly. Ten seconds later when he was done, he tossed his head to the side, his ears flopping limply of his head. "Heee hee people think that I'm gay…what a *hic* surprise…"

"Uh, nothing's wrong with being homosexual." Qwark told Ratchet cautiously. "Not that I'm suggesting that you are!"

Ratchet slid off the stool slowly, his eyes focused somewhere on Qwark's right. "eeYeah, notin's wrong wi' bein'…*hic* being…." Then suddenly, he exploded, "HEY, GIMME ANOTHER DRINK, WILL YA?!" He grabbed his cup and thrust it at the bartender, who hesitantly took it. He turned to Qwark, motioning with his finger for him to lean in, and the superhero did.

"I think he's had enough." The bartender muttered to Qwark. "Why he's getting drunk off this stuff, I don't know but I'm pretty sure it's because of his species. It's probably stronger to him than everybody else, not to mention he's pretty small to be drinking this much. Better take him home…"

"Right…I think we're done here, anyway-" Qwark turned to see an empty space where Ratchet had been half a second ago. "What the-hey, _where'd he go?!_"

* * *

Ratchet tottered across the bar, bumping into at least five people every ten seconds. So of course those who weren't looking at him before now watched him, this time with amusement, along with those glaring daggers at him earlier. The lombax warbled drunkenly as he 'tripped' and crashed into a female Novalian. Over her shrieks of protest, he reached for her chest, muttering, "Hey, didn't I *hic* see you on Lance and Janice one time? You know, *hic* as the lady with the really big boobs? I-hi mean, really big?"

Just as he'd placed his hands on her chest, the female slapped him, hard. He spun away from her, on his heel, then straightened, wobbling slightly. He hiccuped once, then yelped as he was grabbed by someone from behind by the nape of his neck and yanked backwards. He swung from the stranger's hand as he was carried backwards through the bar. He heard a door open, then saw it closing as he was dragged through to another part of the bar. The person holding him swung him around and threw him at a chair, and he slammed its back. The lombax blinked slowly, hiccuping again in surprise as he looked up and saw five tall figures towering over him. Five burly, and _mean_ looking figures. Apparently the one who'd carried him here stepped forward, poking the lombax in the chest with a broad finger.

"Hey, punk," The male Novalian grunted, "…that's my_ wife_ you're smothering yourself all over. That guarantees a no-holds-barred beat down for ya."

Ratchet tilted his head to the side, his eyes half closed. "Hunh? Whasa noholbardown? Souns lika candy bar to muh…"

Several of the Novalian's thugs laughed quietly, and one of them nudged their leader. "Hey boss, this kid's high off his rocker."

"…you sure you wanna beat him up now?"

"Yeah, let's have some fun with him…"

The male Novalian cracked his knuckles, and his associates quieted. "Hold on for a minute…" He leaned in closer, studying Ratchet's face ; it was hard to see in the dim light of the bar. "…this kid looks familiar. Take him over to da Corner."

They pulled Ratchet out of the chair, carrying him over to a small but desolate corner that had a small lamp light hanging over it. Setting him down underneath the light, the leader finally realized that it was indeed the same galactic hero that he'd thought it was. But why was he drunk at a bar? Shouldn't he be doing, well, hero stuff?

"…hey, kid," the Novalian started. Ratchet focused on him, leaning back on the wall with a half dazed, half euphoric look. "…listen, I don't know why you're here, but I don't think this is your type of place."

"I want'ed something to drink," Ratchet slurred, folding limply over the chair like a rag doll. "I want somethin' to drink nao." His eye crossed. "I forgo why…"

"Well, he wants a drink, so why not give him one, boss?" A member of the party, a three eyed tyhrranoid, thrust his drink forward at the lombax. "Here , kid!"

Ratchet seized it, the entire full glass vanishing down his throat in seconds; the Novalian and his gang stood there with their mouth gaping open. The lombax shook the empty glass in the air, grinning lopsidedly with his eyes half closed. "Hey, gimmiegimmiegimmiegimmiegimmie*hic*gimmiegimmegyem iegraymie-"

"Hey, you see that?!"

"Little space rat can really hold his stuff, cain't he?"

"Huh, not bad," The leader said, crossing his arms. "Maybe I was wrong about this not being your place…hey, Xander…go get some more of what you just had…"

"Sure thing, boss." The tyhrranoid lumbered off. The Novalian turned his attention to the lombax. "Hey, kid, hang out with us for awhile and I just _might_ forget that little dispute over you and my wife."

* * *

10:54 AM

Clank put his book down, finally snapping himself out of his self induced trance. How long had he been reading? How long had Ratchet been gone? He looked at the clock and was shocked to see that it read 10:54. Ratchet had been gone for 3 hours and twenty six minutes.

"Not unusual. But he has been the target of some backlash," Clank muttered, flipping a page in his book. "However, I will not worry. He and Qwark know how to take care of themselves."

Hopping down, he went to go make himself a cup of tea in the kitchen; Ratchet had cleaned it very well this time around. He pulled a cup out and set water out to heat up. When it was boiling, he poured it into the cup and put in some metallic-looking tea leaves. Then he went back into the living room, placing his tea near and pulling his book over his lap again. " I can only hope that Qwark hasn't lost Ratchet."

* * *

"Oh no, I've lost Ratchet!"

Panicking, Captain Qwark once again did a complete run through of the entire bar looking for the lombax-under tables, behind counters, underneath chairs-and the patrons sitting on said chairs. Ignoring the annoyed looks being shot at him, Qwark revolved on his heel, his eyes darting back and forth. He didn't see Ratchet anywhere.

"Okay, Qwark. Calm down," he told himself. "He's only been missing for…" He looked at his watch and almost shat himself, "THREE HOURS?!"

The green superhero started pacing back and forth. "This isn't good, not good notgood notgood…Ohhh, boy…."

He accidentally bumped into a woman. She glared at him, then shoved him backwards. And_ then_ she slapped him across the face. "The nerve!"

"Ow, sorry lady, I was just-" Qwark started, but he got slapped again.

"This is the second pervert I've run into today!" The woman shouted. Qwark opened his mouth to ask how the hell was bumping into someone considered bad when she continued, "First some furry yellow kid walks up on me and tries to grope me, then here you go loo-"

"Wait! Did you say, 'furry yellow kid'?" Qwark asked, massaging the spot on his cheek.

"I sure as hell did! He just saunters up to me and starts violating me! I slapped him, nice and good like I just did you!"

"Big striped ears, green eyes?"

"Yeah, I think that's what the little punk looked LIKE-" Her voice rose and octave higher as Qwark grabbed her by the shoulders, lifting her up.

"Where'd he go?!" Qwark asked, his eyes wide.

"Dragged off by my husband, over there-" She pointed to a small door in the side of the bar. It was barely noticeable and unless you were really looking for it you wouldn't have seen it; Qwark's eyes popped as he noticed it, "-and knowing my sweet hubby he probably gave that little punk what he had coming to him-_AH!_"

Dropping the woman, Qwark shot off to the door, busting it down. It was another part of the bar, most likely reserved for those who were, A, granted permission to enter, or B, persons about to get the living shit beat out of them. Qwark didn't fit in either of those categories, so his sudden appearance didn't go unnoticed. Several regulars swiveled their heads to him, then turned back to what appeared to be a commotion in the middle of the room. Qwark inched forward, and being taller than most people he could see better; about five feet in, he saw that they'd made a circle, with a throng of people sitting in the middle-and then Qwark spotted a bright, golden face.

"nnnso then I wuz like," Ratchet was saying, apparently in the middle of a joke, "…if yur *hic* gunna call me gay, look in a goddamn mirror yurself, ya stoopid *hic* broad." He tilted the rest of his drink over his mouth, some going down while most of it spilled down his suit. The bar patrons roared with laughter, stomping the ground with their feet and beating on nearby tables or the heads of anybody close enough. Biting his lip, Qwark knew that he had to get through these rough bastards to get to Ratchet, who'd definitely lost his sense of EVERYTHING. The green superhero stepped forward, clearing his throat loudly.

"Ahem, can I have everyone's attention please?"

Everybody in the room stopped what they were doing and turned to face Qwark. Those near him crowded around, standing at a two foot radius all around him.

Feeling the silent glares on him, Qwark flinched slightly but continued on, "I'm here to get my friend…right there, in the middle, the furry guy?"

Ratchet cocked his head to the side. "Hunh? Capn' Crunch, *hic* whaddya doin hur?"

A male Novalian stepped forward, clapping the lombax on his back and making him crash to the floor. "Who, this kid? He's your responsibility? Why'd you let him go and get drunk like this?"

"Well, he kinda ran off while I wasn't looking…" Qwark said, twiddling his thumbs nervously. "…so, can I have 'im back?"

To his surprise, the Novalian grinned at him widely as he pulled Ratchet's shoulders, bringing him up to his feet. As the lombax stumbled around, crashing into to tables and other people, the Novalian answered , "Sure, but this kid's funny as hell, though! You take care of him, ya hear?"

"Er, why yes, I will. Of course!" Qwark announced as Ratchet slammed into him. He caught the lombax and quickly slung him over his shoulder. "Well, we'll just be going-right now!"

And he hightailed it as _fast_ as he could out of there.

* * *

12: 34 PM

Clank still had his head buried in the book he was reading, not really paying attention to anything. His half-full tea cup sat abandoned to his right. He flipped a page as the orphaned infobot from earlier drifted into the room. The second robot waved its hands at Clank, trying to his attention. Clank completely blocked it out, not on purpose, but he was so into his literature he didn't really see or hear anything besides the inaudible words on the page. The infobot was holding a newspaper in it hands and plopped it over the book, so that Clank had no choice but to read it-

"I am sorry, but I cannot read the newspaper now. I am currently studying the psychological and physical affects of certain carbonated liquids on different species of the Solana galaxy." And with that, he pushed the paper back into the infobot's hands an returned to his book.

The infobot shook its head and then placed the newspaper on the living room table.

On the very front of the newspaper, it was signed and autographed by Captain Qwark, complete with the hero's picture.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N**_

_**Might as well upload this while I'm thinking about it...:D**_

_**Thank you to everyone who's given me reviews. **_

_**I live off reviews, so if I don't get any for a few days I wither. **_

_**And asplode. **_

* * *

"Well, Clank is going to kill us." Qwark muttered, glancing over at the sleeping lombax in the passenger seat. "I didn't know he'd get drunk off that stuff…oh, boy…"

He steered for Kerwan, sitting 34 degrees north and 67 degrees south on his radar. Had he looked out the window at that moment, he would have seen a ship very similar to his pass by in rush, headed off in the opposite direction. But he was too busy worrying about what would happen when Clank saw that Ratchet had gotten intoxicated while in the superhero's care.

And all he wanted to do was find out about what the hell he heard on the news-seeing as though Ratchet didn't realize any of it.

Which was strange (but kinda made sense), since that's not something that they'd just come out and say. To anybody.

Unless…someone deliberately set this up? But what about that picture? It looked credible. It looked real. Genuine. But still…there was some doubt…

Meanwhile, they entered Kerwan's atmosphere, heading down for Metropolis. Minutes later, they were touching down next to Aphelion, in front of Ratchet and Clank's apartment. The ship floated to the front of Qwark's ship so that their noses touched. "And just where have you been?" Aphelion asked scathingly. "Where's-"

Before Qwark could answer, the lombax suddenly popped awake at the sound of the ship's loud voice, his eyes darting everywhere in surprise; seeing Aphelion, he called, "Heya a sea lion, how yur doin?"

"Suh-Seal-" The ship sputtered. "What?! Qwark, what did you do to Ratchet?!"

"Uh, see…" Qwark began, getting out. He rubbed the back of his head, watching his furry charge exit stumbling out of the ship and then crashing back on it, "I kinda took him to a place…-for a drink, you know, and, um…I didn't know he'd react to it in the way he did…"

"So you took him to a bar and got him drunk," Aphelion snarked, "Figures. Well, Clank won't be happy about this. You'd better take Ratchet inside before he hurts someone."

The lombax took two steps away from the ship and tripped over a nonexistent rock, landing on his front with a large wheeze.

"…or himself."

* * *

Qwark, holding a still-drunk lombax to him, pushed open the apartment door slightly, peeking in. Bizarrely, to his right he saw a large book sitting upright on the couch, a coffee cup on the table near it. Not weird at all.

Looking around the living room, he didn't see a sign of Clank anywhere. Good. Maybe he could get away with this…

Sneaking carefully into the room, half dragging Ratchet, he listened for any sounds. All he had to do was get Ratchet to bed so he could sleep this off, and-

"Captain Qwark? When did you get in here?"

The superhero froze, halfway across the room at this point. He slowly turned his head to where he'd heard the robot's metallic voice. As it turns out, the book he'd thought was randomly sitting up on the couch was actually, as he looked closer, was being held on both ends by the robot's hands. The book was so large that it had completely hidden the robot, who was now watching Qwark over the top of it.

"Oh, h-_heeyy_, Clank, how are you doing today?" Qwark stuttered. On his right, the side that was blocking Clank's view of Ratchet, the lombax fussed at a loud whisper about not having a drink for the past 30 minutes. Qwark quickly moved his hand over Ratchet's mouth, adding on, "I-we, just got back from…from…"

The robot was not under any suspicion as the superhero had started talking to him, but soon heard the hollowness in his voice. Clank frowned , suspicious, as the captain stumbled over his words, "…we, uh…were…at the Galaxy Burger. Yeah!" Qwark blurted. "Yeah, and Ratchet had one of those sundaes from Hoven and made himself sick! So uh, we're just…I'm just going to get him to bed real quick now…" He lumbered off to the room, the lombax baying in annoyance as he was dragged off once again for the hundredth time that day. Clank saw Ratchet twist and look at him, raising a hand-or, dangling a hand towards him.

"Hiya, Spank, whosesaswhatits…." Ratchet called lazily. "…love ya *hic* man, love ya…."

.

What.

.

Clank sat stunned on the couch, staring at the door frame that Ratchet and Qwark had disappeared through. Surely he hadn't…believed

those rumors and were... following them?

The robot returned to his book, not really reading it.

"I am sure he did not mean it that way…but…" Clank mused aloud, his green optics staring mindlessly at the book. "…something is not right. First things first," He set the book down next to him, focusing at where the two organics had left the room, "Ratchet would not say something like that to me in front of Qwark, of all people." He paused.

"And he called me _Spank._"

Getting a renewed sense of suspicion, the robot hopped off of the couch, heading for the back after Ratchet and Qwark. "And I had my head in the book at the time, but why did it not occur to me that Qwark was hiding Ratchet as much as he possibly could behind him? Ratchet's demeanor…was completely off as well."

He paused in the hallway, replaying Ratchet's earlier words with precise timbre, pitch, and notation.

_Hiya, Spank, whosesaswhatits…love ya *hic* man, love ya…._

Okay, the slurred speech he definitely picked up on this time. Not to mention, Clank didn't know whether to laugh or be concerned, the lombax had called him Spank. He hadn't heard anybody but Abercrombie Fizzwidget call him that, and that was years ago-though Ratchet had teased him every now and again about it, in addition to purposely called him names that rhymed with his but wasn't his. That hiccup wasn't too alarming, considering organics do it often. But more importantly, his diction had been considerably bad. The lombax did typically speak informally, but that-that was just ridiculous.

Clank frowned as he continued to Ratchet's room. He paused outside of the door, not hearing anything-

-Then it busted open, effectively pinning the small robot to the wall as Captain Qwark sauntered out.

The hero paused outside the door, hearing the sound of metal clashing against a hard surface nearby. He shrugged, then continued down the hall. "Must be my imagination…now, where'd that little robot get to?"

Clank, still pressed up behind the door, froze.

If Qwark thought that he'd left, maybe he could get more intel on whatever the superhero was hiding.

He was proven right in the next thirty seconds, hearing Qwark move around the apartment. He then heard, "….doesn't look like he's here anymore….good! Now, maybe I can get Ratchet fixed up by the time he gets back…but in the meanwhile, I'll just grab a quick bite..."

The robot heard Qwark move towards the kitchen-at least, that's where it sounded like he was. Highly conscious of the sounds of breaking dishes in the kitchen Clank inched out from behind the door quietly then snuck into Ratchet's room. The lombax was lying on his front with his head facing the doorway, and his right arm drooping over the edge of the bed, almost touching the floor. Clank noticed the glazed look in Ratchet's eyes, and how unfocused they were as soon as he walked in. "Ratchet?"

The lombax hiccupped once, then rolled onto his back with a groan, muttering something Clank couldn't quite pick up. The robot hopped on the bed, going to stand by Ratchet's head. "Ratchet, are you feeling well?"

The lombax's eyes found Clank with some difficulty, before finally settling on him. A lopsided grin slowly spread across his face, and he reached his arms out as if he were trying to grab Clank-two feet to the left of were the robot actually was. "Slaaaaaaankk…."

"I'm over here." Clank told Ratchet, waving.

"Hah? eeeYeeaahh I sees ya…theresa *hic* Pank there an' one on the dresser an' one on the ceiling…" Ratchet said slowly, still moving his arms in a grabbing motion.

"No, I am the only one here!" Clank said, a bit put off by Ratchet's behavior. Then he realized, "Pank?!_ Slank?!_" He huffed, putting his hands on his hips. "Is this a side effect of eating too much ice cream? I told you that they put strange ingredients in that stuff."

"Suff? Wha stuf?" Ratchet asked. His arms froze in midair, then dropped to his sides limply. Clank tilted his head to the side, confused. What was this?

"Uh…Ratchet, you're acting very strange right now."

"Righ now… igh now…me now…meow…." Ratchet rambled drunkenly. "Hey, Tank, Imma cat….me*hic*ow. Meeeeoooow…" He sneezed hard, three times in a row. "…almos' coughed up a hairball, 'scuse me…"

Tank.

Clank stared, a bit freaked out by now. "….well…you do have feline-like traits…"

He stepped back quickly as Ratchet sat up suddenly, staring down at Clank with wide eyes. The robot blanched. "Uh, did I say something wrong?"

"I'm thirsy…" Ratchet garbled, still looking at Clank. "…give me *hic* 'nother one, Rob…" and then he flopped backwards on the bed.

Rob? Who was Rob? Did he meet him while he was out with Qwark? But wait…

Clank pieced together everything strange he'd seen from Ratchet. Slurred tone yes, speech impediment, definitely…there was him claiming that there were more Clanks around (notably, one on the ceiling), thrown off perception, majorly…uh, that façade as a common household cat was pretty alarming….but suddenly, the hiccupping had gotten somewhat notable as well. He'd heard Ratchet do it before a load of times, but besides those episodes where he could stop for five or ten minutes…it was never this bad.

Hmm.

Clank considered. Do organics hiccup after they consume too much ice cream? If not, then what did he ingest to make him do it so often?

Clank tried his luck: "Ratchet, what have you eaten in the past few hours?"

"Uhmmm…." Ratchet hiccupped once more. "…what wuz the qeshession?"

Clank climbed on Ratchet's front, directly in front of the lombax's line of sight. "I said, what have you eaten in the past few hours?"

Ratchet focused in the robot kneeling on his chest, and he grinned again. Clank felt the lombax's hands grab his sides, then felt himself being lifted in the air. He was being held up above his friend's body, and he gave Ratchet a questioning look as the lombax continued to smile at him. Now that he thought, even Ratchet's facials were slightly off as well…as if…he couldn't…control it…

Now suddenly, Clank found his suspicions coming back.

"I hada…orange soda…." Ratchet said slowly, shaking Clank slightly from side to side. "…tased good, so I go' somemore…"

"Orange soda? Orange soda is making you act like this? Where were you two?" Clank asked, pressing his luck; it was lucky that Ratchet was responding to him, let alone answering his questions.

Ratchet's lips parted. Clank leaned forward, waiting for the answer. Then-

"_Mrrrooowwwwww…._"

"Ugh…" Clank's hand connected to his face. So much for getting that out of him.

"…we were at a chocolate bar…" Ratchet said suddenly. Clank frowned in confusion.

"A…chocolate bar? I do not understand."

"…I naow…*hic*…it didn' even have chocolate at it…"

A chocolate bar with no chocolate…what in the world did that mean…

A chocolate bar with no chocolate...

With no chocolate…

No chocol-

No ch-

_WAIT,_

_HE COULDN'T MEAN._

Clank frowned down at Ratchet, this time in slight repugnance. It all made sense now. "Ratchet, are you saying you and Qwark went to a bar? And, from the looks of it, got you wasted?"

Suddenly the hands holding him weren't there.

Clank had a brief moment of realization before finding his face to Ratchet's chest, which was now moving up and down slowly has the lombax snored, asleep. His hands were pressing down on Clank's back, preventing the robot from moving. Clank sighed. He let Qwark run off with the lombax and gets him drunk. He was so going to get a few words from him the next time he saw him-

-which was right now, as Qwark walked in though the door, holding a bowl of Cinnamon Space Crunch. Clank focused on Captain Qwark, who'd frozen, looking like he was just caught in the middle of a bank robbery.

"Clannnkk…I didn't expect to see you here…"

Clank tried to make it apparent that he was upset, but you can only do so much while being hugged by someone more than twice your size. Pushing himself up slightly, he glared at Qwark. "You have some explaining to do."

"I swear, I don't know what happened to him!" Qwark said, swinging his bowl slightly and causing some milk to splash on the carpet.

"What do you mean? I thought you had an eye on him!"

"I did give him a drink, but I swear I didn't know he'd get drunk off of it! I've had it before and nothing ever happened to me!"

Suddenly Clank remembered something from the book he'd read earlier. "What was the beverage called?"

"Ah…I believe, Obani Orange Overload, or Triple O." Qwark told him.

At this, Clank lessened his hostility. It may have been a pure coincidence, but he'd been reading of the effects of certain popular beverages on different Solanian species. It was specifically designed so all species in Solana could enjoy it without hindering side affects... to those native to Solana, it didn't really affect them, but...

Ratchet was technically from the Polaris Galaxy.

"…all right…" Clank said. "I understand now. But do you know how much he had? He is still acting fairly influenced now."

"Well, the little guy was downing so much after his first go at it…then he uh, ran away…" Qwark admitted. "And I uh, lost him for a few hours…when I found him, he was surrounded by these other guys and still had a bunch of it with him. But I don't know how much he drank-I do know that he can hold a lot more than it really seems."

"Oh, just great. I guess we'll just have to wait until he sleeps it off…however long that takes…" Clank tried pushing himself up, but only earned himself a possessive growl from the lombax as he was snapped protectively to his chest again.

"Well, I'll just be going and leave you two alone," Qwark said, inching back out the door, "I have some business to tend to…" Clank squinted at him as he backed out of the room.

"Hold on." The robot said firmly. Qwark paused, pulling his best I-didn't-do -it face. "While you did not know what effect the beverage had on Ratchet, you still lost track of him. You need to be more careful, Qwark. If you hadn't noticed," Clank nodded towards the curious infobot, who was peeking in the room from behind the door, "People are mad at the both of us for something so insipid and false."

Qwark raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying that-"

"What you saw on the news was nothing more than a faux representation of Ratchet's relationship with me." Clank told him. "I do not know how someone managed to get close enough to us to get that picture without us seeing, but I do know that what was shown is not true and is strictly fake."

"Well, whatever you say!" Qwark said. "I wonder, though. The person who took that picture must've made a lot of money from it…"

"Yes?" Clank inquired, wondering where he was going with this. "And?"

The green superhero paused. "…ah, I'm just thinking out loud. Well, see ya Clank, definitely wouldn't want to be ya!"

Clank watched him leave. When he saw Qwark at the front door, he called,

"Make sure you return that bowl when you're done with it! And you owe us in bolts for all the dishes you broke!"

* * *

Clank woke up.

"…._what_ in the world?"

He was startled and confused to see a wall of bright orange in front of him with horizontal lines running across them. After a brief moment he realize he was staring at the front of Ratchet's pilot suit, then he realized that they weren't in the same position as they were in before. The lombax was now lying on his side, and with his arms still wrapped around Clank, had the little robot hugged to his chest. Clank sat still, feeling a beating noise very close to him. Ah. He had his face pressed to Ratchet's gently moving chest. He listened to the soft and peaceful sound of his friend's heartbeat for a few minutes. Clank listened carefully, thinking hard for a moment; it was secretly his favorite sound that he could ever hear, and he was glad that he could get this close to hear it instead of feeling it through Ratchet's back.

It was more distant then and, besides the moments where Ratchet was nervous or tense, it was usually overlooked unless the lombax was standing really still and not saying anything.

Ratchet standing still and not saying anything. For at least ten seconds.

Like hell.

Wondering how long they'd been asleep, Clank carefully lifted his head up to catch a glance at the clock. 9:00 PM….holy nuts and bolts-they'd been in the bed for eight or nine hours!

He listened, picking up a sound-he heard the infobot in the room next to them, still awake since he could hear it blinking very slowly every now and again-but there was another one. Clank paused, listening hard over Ratchet's snoring.

Rushing wind, it sounded like. But that made no sense-that would have to mean-

Clank lifted his head up over the lombax's form and peered down the hallway through the open door.

The front door was wide open.

Clank's eyes widened. Had they'd been broken in on? He glanced at Ratchet's sleeping face. Would he let him up now?

Yes, Clank managed to slide his body up-aware of the somewhat awkward sensation of his chest sliding against Ratchet's- and untangle one of his legs. He paused when the lombax shifted, drawing his arms closer together-around Clank's unfreed leg.

"Darn it." Clank muttered. He hopped backwards on one foot, trying to tug the other one free. He stopped when he heard a small growl leave Ratchet's closed mouth. Waiting for a minute, Clank tried again. He inched his leg out carefully, moving back slowly. There we go, just a bit more, and-

**_CLANG._**

-backed right off the edge of the bed.

Now lying on his back on the floor, Clank froze, wondering with dread if Ratchet had woken up. He got up slowly , then cautiously tilted his head back, looking up; from here he could see that the lombax's ears hadn't moved from their position, hanging from the edge of the bed. Sighing with relief Clank quietly made his way across the room, slipping out the door and running down the hallway. As he got nearer to the door he saw that The Trespasser lock module had been ripped off the wall, hanging from loose wires.

"_What_ in the _world?!_" Clank cried. He walked up to the destroyed security system, touching the dangling module. "Who did this?"

Due to the fact that he had been the only person besides Ratchet and Clank in the apartment at the time, Captain Qwark was highly susceptible. But Clank had seen him exit the door and shut it behind him, locking it before going to sleep himself-so how could he get back in to break the lock?

Better question yet, why would he want to do something like that anyway? Captain Qwark did have many questionable actions but in his right mind Clank couldn't rule out why he would vandalize their property.

The robot shut the door before turning around and noticing the open window in the living room.

"Well. There's a way for someone to get in not by the front door." Clank said aloud, approaching the window cautiously. Climbing up on the back of the couch, he reached and shut the windowsill.

"This may be more than just a coincidence. The door was enough, but the broken lock and the open window are dead giveaways to something similar to that of a burglary. But..."

Puzzled, Clank looked back at the room Ratchet was sleeping in; he started down the hallway headed for the room adjacent to it, where some of their weapons and gadgets were kept. "How did either of us not hear what was going on? The acoustics of this apartment aren't-" He stopped at the doorway, his mouth open.

A little light from the window provided enough visibility for Clank to see into the room, but at the same time, he was wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him. The infobot from earlier was still in the room, where Clank had heard it earlier. Because he'd ran past the doorway of this room earlier he didn't really look that closely inside. But what he saw was almost enough to make him turn away.

The robot was lying , to put it in technical terms, in a heap in the middle of the floor with oil leaking out of its bent and horribly twisted neck. There were several wires sticking out of the back of it, looking like bizarre, multicolored tentacles that were splayed and bent in unnatural positions. One of its arms was missing, with sparks flying from the empty socket, and the other arm was snapped clean in half. The infobot's body had several small and round puncture marks across it, as well as several deep depressions on its head as well-like somebody had tried to beat it in. The eyes, one of which was hanging out from its socket from loose a coil, were still lit up, but dimly. And, every now and again, it blinked. It had been awake through everything.

Clank was still at the door with his mouth open in shock.

Then, after a minute, he slowly made his way to the damaged robot. He registered stepping in something-oil. It was pooling out from the destroyed robot's body. He stopped in front of its line of sight, prompting it to turn the best it could with its almost detached head. Clank shook his head in disbelief.

"I am…so sorry…" He said to the other robot. "I should've looked after you. You were my responsibility."

The infobot blinked once, then Clank felt a message being sent to him. It was in binary and he could've easily decoded it-which he did, but…

It made no sense.

"…I am not understanding…"Clank muttered, then he shook his head. He would get to the bottom of that later. "Can you tell me who did this to you?"

The infobot shook its head, sent Clank a message that was decoded as, _You're not listening to me_, and resent the previous message.

Clank still didn't understand it.

As he was about to question the infobot, the damaged robot blinked once more before closing its eyes and going completely still.

Before it went offline it resent Clank the same message at least four hundred more times.


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N_**

**_Uhh..._**

**_I have a present..._**

**_An extra-long chapter :D_**

**_Warnings for some swearing_**

* * *

Clank felt a hand on his shoulder. Surprised, and admittedly scared, he whirled around and came face to face with feline-like features. He sighed, feeling relieved. Good, he felt a lot safer when Ratchet was up. The lombax tilted his head to the side, holding it.

"Urgggh, Clank, buddy, what are you doing up this late?" Ratchet asked. He spoke slowly and quietly, as if he didn't have enough energy to talk.

"Ratchet…do not be alarmed, but I have discovered some things…that may contribute to a break in of our house."

"Break in? What do you-" The lombax's half closed eyes widened as he finally noticed the mangled robot behind Clank, "-mean…"

He moved closer to it until he was leaning right over it on his heels, and reached his hand out to it. Clank noticed that Ratchet was kneeling right in the oil, but was sure that the lombax didn't even notice. Feeling carefully on the robot's body, Ratchet asked, "Clank, who_ did_ this to it? I mean, I blow up robots myself, but those are evil robots, and it's not like I leave them alone to die slowly!"

"And that's just what happened. It was still awake when I came in a few minutes ago before shutting down. I do not know who assaulted it like this or why. What I'm concerned with is…" He looked up at Ratchet, who returned his grave expression.

"…that it happened right here in our house and we didn't know." Ratchet finished quietly. His hands froze on the infobot's body. "…could've easily been one of us lying right here on the floor…"

"Whoever it was, I am sure they are responsible for what I saw in the living room." Clank told Ratchet. The lombax paused, looking at Clank closely."What'd you see?"

Clank frowned. "The lock the front door, you remember installing it, right?"

"Mhm. Alpha G-5 Trespasser encryption, I remember."

"The module was ripped off the wall," Clank said to Ratchet, seeing the lombax's face take on a look of alarm, "...and the door was wide open."

"What?! The lock was_ broken?!_" Ratchet yelped, jumping up. "-and the door was open?!"

"Yes. At first I thought to myself that it somehow malfunctioned, seeing at how Qwark had indeed locked it behind himself earlier," Clank said, walking to the door. "…but I dropped that theory as soon as I saw that the window in living room was wide open."

Ratchet quickly went after him, reaching for the small robot. "Whoa, wait! If we've been broken in on, don't go walking around yourself! You should've come and gotten me when you saw the front door open!"

"I was not attacked, thank goodness. But I do not think that whoever has done this is still present in this vicinity." Clank said, stopping. Ratchet went and stood in front of him, his back facing out towards the hallway.

"What makes you say that?"

"The infobot." Clank said simply.

One of Ratchet's ears lowered slightly in confusion as he looked at Clank. "What about it?"

"Before it went offline, it sent me...several (Clank paused as he said 'several' because that was a massive understatement.)...messages that may help me identify whoever attacked it. The only thing that I can conclude from our apartment being invaded, notably without anything going missing, is that they came after the infobot."

"Just for an infobot?" Ratchet muttered. "Okay, so that means that whatever was on it…was important to whoever tried attacking it."

Clank felt himself stiffen at Ratchet's next question.

"So Clank, do you know what was on it?"

The short, unnatural pause between his question and the robot's answer went unnoticed by the lombax.

"…I do not know, I did not get a chance to look at it myself." Clank said, a bit hastily.

"All right, then," Ratchet replied, not noticing as usual. "Well, guess I'd better go check out the rest of the apartment. The garage, too. Maybe Aphelion saw something." He stood up. Halfway through turning around, he paused, then looked down at Clank. "Hey, come with me, will ya? I'm still not comfortable with leaving you alone-even if this guy might be gone."

"Of course." Clank said, and he followed Ratchet to the garage. Then he muttered, "I can only hope this doesn't get worse."

* * *

Unlike they'd previously thought, upon checking their living quarters and the garage they discovered with suspicion that none of their belongings had been stolen. The duo was slightly unnerved by this, both aware of how prone they were to whomever decided to break in their house-and the fact that Ratchet had accidentally left his weapons vault in the garage unlocked, allowing access to their most dangerous and rare guns and devices (Clank noticed with amusement how an initially panicked Ratchet made sure that all RYNOs were accounted for before turning to his other weapons). Ratchet, being the more paranoid of the two, had carefully searched every nook and cranny of the apartment to make insure that there weren't any possible openings anywhere. He replaced the broken Trespasser lock with another ,this one being much more of a challenge to hack. The lombax was a bit steamed at how he'd left his other hacking gadgets in the garage on Veldin, so he couldn't enforce the new lock in case someone got by that. While Ratchet was occupied with the interior, Clank went outside and questioned Aphelion, who hadn't seen anyone near the apartment all night.

"And you did not hear anything?" Clank asked, frowning in thought.

"No. I didn't hear any noise at all besides the flying cars overhead. Some commercial crew passed by here earlier, though-they were loud, at about one hundred feet up. I think they were working on an advertisement for a new holo-guise or something that can disguise you as an insectoid…"

"Hmm." Clank mused, already in deep thought. "If you did not hear anything and we did not hear anything, then how on earth did they manage to create such a scene less than ten feet from us?" He walked away to the apartment door. "But even before that, they managed to hack into our house-I cannot imagine how they got the window open-and break the lock on our door."

"Hey, Clank!" Ratchet said suddenly, appearing right in front the robot. "I'm gonna fix that infobot up, okay? 'Cause whoever went after certainly didn't want the world to see what information it had!"

Clank turned to face him, keeping his expression neutral. "How long do you think it'll take you?"

"Hmm, a week at the least, I'd say. There's a lot of parts on it that I gotta replace if I want to run exactly the way it was before and still have its RAM intact."

Clank almost sighed as the lombax walked around him to the apartment, and reluctantly he followed. He would have to tell Ratchet sooner or later because it seriously didn't appear that he'd seen what was on the news about him and Clank these past two days, and he was going to fix the infobot anyway. But when would be the right time?

"Hey, Clank!_ We're on the news!_"

Right now, it seemed.

* * *

"Uh oh." Clank muttered. Ratchet was sitting cross legged on the couch, leaning forward with excitement as he listened to the news report. Clank stopped by the couch and slowly turned to face the TV, but he was at an angle as to where he couldn't see the lombax's face.

_"…as you can see here, female fans of the Secret Agent Clank series are practically ecstatic over their so-called OTP, which concerns the two main characters of the series, the Agent himself and his chauffeur, Jeeves…"_

Clank glanced at Ratchet, who had slight confusion on his face. That was right, if he didn't know what shippers were he wouldn't know what an OTP was. But he was about to find out.

"It appears that such a pairing has become officially canon, as fans would say, evidenced by the photograph taken days earlier. Needless to say," Darla leaned forward, the practiced air of a news reporter positively beaming off her, "It may come as a shock to those who weren't expecting such a confession like this come out just like that; Older fans of the show are enraged at this, further claiming that something like this isn't natural-and that they've been hiding it for years."

Ratchet frowned, starting to get the gist of it. "Wait, what? What pairing are they talking about? And what photograph? What confession?" He paused. Clank crossed his fingers, waiting for the lombax to connect it all together. He wasn't_ that_ slow.

"'Something like this isn't natural? Hiding for years?'" Ratchet shook his head, then looked down at Clank, who was staring ahead motionlessly. "Clank, what the_ heck_ are they talking about?" He chuckled. "It's just the media being stupid aga-"

A picture popped up on the screen.

Ratchet sputtered into silence, his mouth dropping to the couch as he looked at it.

Clank lowered his head, fiddling with his thumbs. He had been thinking it over ever since he'd seen it yesterday, and now he had figured out where they'd gotten the picture.

Him standing on Aphelion's wing days earlier. The ship tossing herself in anger. Him sliding down and crashing into Ratchet's face. At that exact moment, he'd remembered seeing a brief flash somewhere in the background. The picture being taken at the worst possible moment for the both of them.

_It looked like we'd been kissing_, Clank thought, staring at the picture. _Just as I thought_. _Whoever took that picture had impeccable timing_.

They'd made it look like they were doing something that they really weren't.

But the media didn't know that.

The public didn't know that.

"As stated before, this must come as a big shock to those unsuspecting. While this may have pleased the many fangirls that support the show, it has also created a very, very angry group of people who do not approve of this sudden announcement-and it's growing every day."

Clank felt the couch trembling.

"While it may have not been the most surprising thing that the duo has done over the years, it's most certainly worthy of many head turns. We can only see how this will turn out in Ratchet and Clank's future, but until then, stay tuned. Darla Gratch, Chann-."

The TV shut off.

Clank counted silently in his head.

5…4…3-

"_WHAT THE __**FUCK**__ IS THIS!_" Ratchet bellowed, lowering his hand with the remote in it. "WHAT! THE! FLYING_ DOODY PIECE OF SHIT IS THIS?!_"

The lombax's ears were stuck straight up like a board, and his tail was flipping crazily out of control. His eyes had dilated, giving off the somewhat feral look Clank had been accustomed to see every time Ratchet got serious on a mission, usually during on of their galaxy-saving adventures. The robot couldn't help but to feel the urge to flinch as Ratchet turned and looked down at him, furious.

"CLANK, WHAT THE HELL? DID YOU SEE THAT! _DID YOU SEE THAT?!_"

"Yes, I did." Clank said neutrally, in contrast to Ratchet. But he'd known, so…

"WHO the HELL came up with that crap?! Like seriously, WHO-THE HELL SAID THAT WE WERE GAY AND TURNED IN A FAKE PICTURE OF US?!" Ratchet slid of the couch, glaring so hard at the wall that for a second Clank actually thought he would bust a hole in it. The lombax began moving about the living room, his arms folded as he walked around in blind rage; his tail was subconsciously wrapping itself around his body.

"I…do not know." Clank said. He sighed, then decided to confess:"…but I had seen that news report on the air yesterday."

Ratchet paused, looking at Clank with his eyebrows furrowed. Clank could tell that he wasn't upset at him, though. The robot continued.

"When I answered the door yesterday, there was an angry group of people there," Clank said, pausing when a look of comprehension already spread across the lombax's face, "But when I asked them what they were doing, they merely threw vague and daunting banter towards me. They mentioned you as well, so I knew that you were involved somehow. I asked them to calm down, but that only seemed to make them angrier-I was afraid that they would have violent intentions, and so I provided evident self-defense. When I asked them what was the matter, one particular fellow…presented his infobot to me-that's how I acquired it-and I saw the news broadcast."

Ratchet remained silent, his angry expression never dropping, and Clank continued, "I figured you would have the reaction you just had, had I shown you that infobot…but I did not want to upset you. I hid it in my chest compartment, just as you had come up and asked. I…am sorry for not telling you earlier, Ratchet."

"_Stop_ it, Clank." Ratchet said sharply. "You didn't do anything wrong-you were looking out for me. It's the damned bastard who came up with this shitstory that's in the wrong."

He paused, then said slowly, "And that's why Qwark was asking me all those questions yesterday, cause he'd seen the-" He sighed, dropping his arms. "Screw it, now everyone thinks we're gay. Great."

He sat back down on the couch, his arms resting on the back of it, and Clank climbed up to sit next to him. None of them spoke for at least thirty minutes, just staring ahead at the wall in complete silence. The lombax had the same serious and concentrated expression he always wore when working strenuously on a new gadget or invention. He was thinking, hard - the robot wondered how many things must've been running through his friend's head at that point.

"…did you say that you had to defend yourself?" Ratchet growled suddenly, breaking the heavy silence.

"Well…I did not have to use it, but I showed them my Geo-laser when they'd gotten too close, and that by itself worked out fine with the crowd control." Clank told him.

"If any of 'em had laid a hand on you, I would've_ ripped them apart with my bare hands_," Ratchet hissed quietly, and Clank could tell with slight worry that he'd meant it.

No, killing people right now wouldn't look good on their record.

They sank into silence again, the only sound being of Ratchet's tail thumping itself irritably on the back of the couch.

Then Clank asked, "Now what?"

Ratchet took in deep breath, then let it out slowly.

"I don't know, pal."

* * *

Later that day

A knock came at the door. Clank, watching Robo-Chef on the couch, made to get up to answer it, but Ratchet swept into the room, his wrench gripped tightly in his hand. "I got it, Clank. You stay put."

He opened the door, only to face an empty doorstep. Ratchet looked left and right, wary and a trifle annoyed. After a minute, he still didn't see anyone-so he began to close the door, only to feel the hairs on his neck stand up. He raised his wrench on impulse, looking around more fervently. Watching Ratchet, Clank asked, "What is the matter, Ratchet? I don't see anyone there."

"…I feel something nearby…" Ratchet muttered. He closed the door, his eyes darting around the room. "I don't know what it was, but I can sense it…"

A fly buzzed by his ear, and he flicked it away impatiently, listening for any sounds; after a while, he straightened up, relaxing slightly. Moving swiftly, he weaved through the living room and went up to the window, looking out. Seeing only Aphelion, he backed up.

"I don't see anyone out there. But I know I felt someone's presence." Ratchet said. Motioning at the door with his wrench, he walked out of the room, "Call me if you hear or see something suspicious, okay, Clank?"

"I will."

The robot continued watching TV for about ten more minutes, then someone sent him a message. His monitor floated out of his chest compartment and turned on, showing the face of a certain fitness trainer.

Before Clank could speak the woman erupted: "CLANK!_ VHERE IS VAT MEASLY FURBALL RATCHET?_"

"Ratchet is in the process of repairing something. Do you need him?"

Helga snorted. "Vell, of course, or else I vouldn't be calling him! Tell him to_ vring_ his body to me_ now!_"

Clank felt the impulse to laugh. "As you wish, I will go get him."

"Clank, you need me?" Ratchet called from the back, and the robot remembered that he'd left the back door open.

"Is vat him? RATCHET, COME HERE VOW!" Helga bellowed, and Clank covered the side of his head with his hands.

"Who is that, that sounds like-" Ratchet came in the room, then froze as he saw who was glaring at him from Clank's monitor. "…Hu-Hu-Huh…"

"Ves, it is me. Who else vould call you on the vay that you promised to spend vorking out vith them?"

Clank tilted his head to the side, giving Ratchet a questioning look. The lombax was fumbling with his wrench in his hands, and he rocked back and forth on his heels as he said, "Um…I…yeah, I…forgot…"

"Forgot, he says. He forgot._ Silly Lombax!_" Helga snorted again. "_I vill make you run extra for that!_ Tomorrow, Planet Novalis, 6 AM! Good _vye!_"

Clank retracted his monitor, looking at Ratchet. "What was that all about?"

"I wanted to get some exercise after uh, getting wasted at that bar. You know, 'cause if I exercise, I'll burn off all the remanding crap running through my system, right?"

"I…guess." Clank shrugged. "I am not familiar with organic bodily functions."

"Well, I guess it'll be the thought that counts," Ratchet said, rubbing the back of his head. "But anyway, I did call Helga and ask her if we could work out today and, I guess I forgot…cause…" He glanced at the TV, a slight frown appearing on his face. "…of what happened today; I guess I got so mad I forgot all about it. Now I gotta deal with Helga. When she's angry."

He and Clank shivered at the same time.

"Tomorrow will be a long day."

* * *

Ratchet paced in front of the door, gripping his wrench tightly. Clank watched him, concerned.

"Ratchet, you must not work yourself up. That will make you perform poorly." The robot said. Ratchet stopped and faced him, his eyes wide.

"Don't work myself up? Don't work myself UP?" Ratchet cried, spreading his arms out. "The first time we met Helga, she was in a good mood- for her anyway-and she still forced us to do a fitness course that could've killed us both! Now she's angry! Man, I'm _done_."

He looked left and right, searching for something. "Where's a pen and paper, I need to write my will-"

A loud knock came at the door-though knock was an understatement, since it sounded like someone hit the door with a steel battering ram. Ratchet and Clank jumped at the sound, both looking at the door with wide eyes.

"RATCHET LOMBAX! SHOW VOURSELF!"

Ratchet looked down at Clank. "It's been nice knowing you, buddy." He started towards the door slowly, and Clank followed him. "I will lock up, Ratchet."

"Okay, call me if anything happens, all right?"

Ratchet opened the door-immediately shrinking back, his ears folding down.

"So the little man vis cowvering in fear, is he? Too bad! COME!" Helga grabbed the front of Ratchet's suit, effortlessly yanking him out the door and carrying him away. "Bye, little tin man! _He_ vill be gone for ahvile!"

Clank didn't know whether to laugh or be worried. So he did both as he closed the door and locked it. "I will have to find someway to occupy my time without zoning out. Reading shall be avoided. So what should I do-"

A familiar song reached his hearing receptors from the TV, and with excitement he jumped.

"Oooo! The Science Channel is on!"

* * *

"Now, vhat do you theenk we shall do virst?"

Ratchet's knees were shaking nervously. His tail was in between his legs.

Compared to his current situation, he could handle an angry Helga and a day of hell training.

But in addition to those two things, a crowd of curious Novalians had gathered, in the dozens, watching Ratchet and Helga as they got ready. In addition to that,

-it appeared that the majority of them had been updated with the news.

"Hey, where's your other robot buddy at? He-She-IT couldn't make it?"

"If you make him sweat hard enough, maybe his gayness will evaporate off him!"

"Make that furry fag work his ass off!"

Ratchet grit his teeth hard, his wrench being held tightly in his hand. He sucked in a breath, then it hitched as Helga put her face in his. He pulled his head back and lowered his ears as she yelled, "I said, _VHAT_ do you_ THEENK_ we should do_ FIRST?_"

"I dunno." Ratchet answered at a loud whisper, one eyebrow cocked up as he begged with his eyes for the huge lady to back off. "Can we go to a place that's not as…distracting?"

"VOWN!"

Ratchet dropped to the ground, not by his own will but at the sheer force of Helga's voice. "…geez, can you-"

"VUN HUNDREED!"

"A hundred? Already-"

"TOO HUNDRED!"

"Two hundred-why-"

"TWO VIFTEY! ONE HAND!"

Ratchet slapped a hand over his mouth.

Helga waited.

"TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTEY PUSHUPS ON ONE HAND? LADY ARE YOU NUTS-" Ratchet finally bellowed, only to be yanked up again and set on his feet.

"Vou leetle rat! You ask for vorkout and you complain like a one vonth baby!"

Ratchet glared at Helga. "_Cuz_, I didn't expect to be punished because I forgot! You'd forget something if the media lied about you-"

"VON'T CARE!" Helga yelled. Ratchet folded his ears down, annoyed. "NOW, YOU RUN EVEN EXTRA! TWO LAPS ARVOUND CITY! NOW!"

Ratchet turned his head, surveying the city that they were in; it was the one that had been attacked by Ultimate Supreme Executive Chairman Drek all those years ago, but back then, he and Clank hadn't gotten a good look at it. To put it simply, it was moderately large. One lap around it was like two of Qwark's fitness course on Umbris put together. And not to mention, he would have to run through a city with Lombax-hating citizens.

Damn, this was better/worst than any other of his average galaxy-saving situations.

"Hello? Lombax, vou only have thirty minutes to do my laps!" Helga's voice cut into Ratchet's thoughts, startling the lombax.

"Wha-thirty-NRRGHHH!" Ratchet groaned, then took off.

The first few hundred feet weren't tough, seeing as to how he'd cut though a large plaza-but then he encountered some trouble.

Already breathing a bit hard, Ratchet rounded a corner-

-then screeched to a halt as a group of 3 Novalians popped up on him.

Ratchet backed up instinctively at the furious looks being shot at him.

"…so uh, guess you guys have been watching the news, huh?"

They charged him.

Moving on instinct, Ratchet sidestepped as one tried tackling him, then swung his wrench at the face of another that rushed at him like a bull; the Novalian went sailing backwards, grunting as he crashed into another. Ratchet ran and leaped over them, streaking past them.

"I'd rather face you guys than Helga, but I can't stay to chat!"

He chuckled as he heard them, about fifty feet behind him, run screaming and yelling after him, sounding like a stampeding group of cattle. Of course, Ratchet was faster, so he managed to put distance between himself and them. But that didn't stop them from getting tired. About two-thirds through the first lap, his lungs already felt like they were about to explode. His sprint slowed to a jog, then eventually a walk. His head hung down, and he kneeled, leaning on his wrench for support.

"Ugh…I just have to rest for a second…"

Tilting his ears back, he listened for the group of thugs and didn't hear them. He sighed. He sat for about five minutes, looking around and about for anyone coming at him.

"Ah, now I've got three obstacles-not finishing in time, Helga getting pissed at me, and a band of jerks trying to kill me. Great-"

"Hey, lombax!"

Ratchet pushed himself up quickly, shooting off without a backwards glance. He felt someone grab at his tail, but he yanked it away, hissing as several hairs were ripped from the tuft. Gritting his teeth, he ignored his protesting lungs and made it back to where Helga was; by now there were about one hundred spectators, all watching him as he came up.

If it weren't for the fact that he was screwed in three possible ways at that moment, he would've definitely cared.

He sprinted past Helga, and she bellowed, "ELEVEN MINUTES LEFT, LOMBAX!"

_Crap_, Ratchet thought, since he didn't want to waste the breath saying it. He looked behind himself and saw the three guys from earlier tailing him, thirty feet behind. Helga didn't even say a word to them as they rushed past her, their obvious target being Ratchet. To make the situation even more shitty the crowd started cheering for_ them_.

_CRAP_,_ what the hell? I'm not saving this planet's sorry butt anymore._ Ratchet increased his pace, suddenly aware of his wrench in his hand. It was slowing him down, and it was a pain to carry. Oh,_ why _did he bring it with him?

About halfway through, he finally stopped, leaning on a wall and clutching a major stitch in his side. He felt really light headed as well; breathing heavily, he lifted his head up and looked around warily; people were eyeing him as they passed by, but didn't seem to want anything to do with him. Groaning, he dragged his feet and forced himself into a jog. Several minutes later, he was close to the end, but suddenly found his vision getting shaky.

"Oh shoot-not now! Come on…" Ratchet muttered, putting a hand on a wall to steady himself. "Do NOT pass out…you can do this, Ratchet." He waited.

And waited too long.

He suddenly felt something heavy slam on his back, and he dropped like a stone, crashing to the ground. In the next few seconds, Ratchet lay on the ground, feeling blows coming from all sides of him before recovering from his shock and rolling over, his wrench at the ready. He glared harshly at his attackers, and they all had a brief 'Oh Crap' moment before getting their butts handed to them.

_Thirty seconds later... _

"Ugh, great." Ratchet said, pulling the last unconscious body into an alley, "I'm probably late."

Sure enough, when he dragged himself all the way to Helga, she yelled, "THIRTY VUN MINUTES AND FIFTEEN SECONDS! Pushups for you!"

"What?" Ratchet panted, hands on his knees. "I barely went over, and that's because I had to deal with some scumbags on the way here!"

"PUSHUPS!" Helga bellowed.

Rolling his eyes, Ratchet got down on one hand, trying to ignore the chuckles all around him.

_Five hundred one-handed pushups later..._

"Git up, you lazy pile of fur!"

"I would love to get up, but_ I can't feel my arms and legs!_" Ratchet hollered, lying facedown on the ground with his arms spread out. Helga reached down and grabbed him by the collar of his suit and slung him over her shoulder. Then she plowed though the crowd that had surrounded them, acting like they didn't even exist. "Now! You vill vork in the in the veight room! Easy enough?"

"I'm not really built for power, in case you hadn't noticed." Ratchet muttered. Helga bounced him on her shoulder effortlessly, as if he didn't weigh a bit.

"Of course I noticed, silly furball," Helga told him. "Vat nintey-seven and a haff pounds, I vould guess you vere built for speed. Vut, considering how you tote guns avound bigger than you all the time, a little veight training vouldn't hurt?"

"Big guns?" Ratchet asked, trying to sound as innocent as he could but failing awfully. "I don't carry-" He paused, then busted out laughing. Helga smirked at him sideways as he cried, "That would've been the biggest lie _ever_, coming from me!"

"Here ve are, lombax!" Helga announced. "Git off!"

They were in a large rectangular room that was apparently used as a miniature gym; there was no one in there but them, so all of the workout equipment weren't being used. Ratchet lifted his head up, seeing a glowing white disk on teh ground behind them.

"How are we here already, we were just outside-and you didn't even give me time to take a nap." Ratchet said grinning, trying to annoy her. In the next second he found himself flying forward, crashing onto a treadmill. He peeled his face from the rubber belt, groaning.

"That's what I get for losing myself at a bar. I had to go train with the craziest trainer ever-what the hell was I thinking! I _must've _still been partly drunk!"

"Ratchet lombax! Get up! And stop talking!" Helga said, magically appearing over Ratchet, who looked up with a freaked out expression. Helga always seemed to move fast (almost like teleporting) when people weren't looking at her. This was another one of those times.

"….uh…." Ratchet mumbled.

"Vhat!"

"You just threw me clear across the room, at least twenty feet and you just got here in seconds without me hearing you." Ratchet told her.

"That's vecause I vork out! Not sit around all day playing Vid-comics and watching the Holo-vid!"

"Sure you don't." Ratchet muttered quietly. "_And I'm sure you also don't have five full course meals for breakfast._"

Luckily, Helga didn't hear him.

"Not to vention, you seet avound all day tinkerving with unimportant things! Vasting your hours avay at that vorkbench!"

Ratchet didn't respond to that at first, and the robot thought that he hadn't heard her. But then slowly he looked up with an aggravated expression.

"What's_ that_ supposed to mean?" Ratchet asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Helga snorted. Huh. So she'd struck a nerve.

That may be just what she needed.

"You now vhat I mean," Helga continued icily, "Mechanics like you are vasting your time everyday vhen you could just be exercising. If you did just that, you vouldn't be having as much trouble."

Ratchet pushed himself up suddenly, simultaneously scrutinizing Helga with squinted eyes. The robot's eyebrows raised up. Didn't he _just_ say that he couldn't move?

"For one damn thing, I do work out," Ratchet said, glaring at Helga, "Just not in the death training that you force people to do. MY workout comes from saving 1+ galaxies constantly and almost getting myself and my pal killed at every turn!"

"Oh, really? If you're so good then vhy are you complaining vike a wee little baby?" Helga asked, driving the stake in deeper. "Am I too distracting for you? I see that you've been," She twirled a ponytail with a finger, "...busy lately, speaking of vour so-called pal."

Ratchet went still, going completely blank for a moment with surprise, then his eyes flared up in anger. "Don't you DARE bring that up!" Helga watched him in slight amusement. "It's a complete-_LIE!_"

Helga shrugged. "Hmp. I'm jaust going by vhat the media said. Personally, I can see what they're getting at," Ratchet shook his head, looking embarrassed for some reason, and this drove the robot to continue, "…Considerving how you two like to ve back-to-back. Eet is said that when a guy likes a girl, he vill carry her on his back."

"Clank is NOT a girl. And you know why he's on my back all the time!" Ratchet snapped.

"No, I don't. But I am quite interested as to why you vear that harness all the time. Even on days that you do not haff him on your back."

Here Ratchet paused, thinking. Then, closing his eyes, he replied, "I just got used to wearing it over the years. It's a habit."

"Even today?" Helga leaned around him, trying to get a look at his back; she saw a glimpse of a bolt-shaped object on the back of Ratchet's pilot suit before the lombax pulled away from her.

"You built one into vour suit?" Helga asked, not really noticing this before. That was…interesting.

"Yeah, and?" Ratchet answered, and the robot could've sworn she saw his cheeks turning red slightly, "I did that so I wouldn't have to take the time to strap on the harness, especially on one of our longer adventures." He suddenly heard a loud and annoying buzzing noise, and he batted whatever it was away with an ear. "It's not because-" He stopped.

"Vecause…?" Helga asked.

For a moment it seemed that words failed the lombax; then after several seconds he mumbled, "Nothing…"

Helga paused, thinking what had made him so flustered, then her eyes lit up as she asked, "Vhere you about to say that it wasn't vecause you liked having him on your back all the time?"

"No!" Ratchet said, a bit too quickly. Then he let out an exasperated sigh, dragging a hand down his face.

"Aha!" Helga said triumphantly. "You vere about to deny eet!"

"I was not." Ratchet said, from behind his hand. The hand holding his wrench twitched.

"Then vhy didn't you finish?" Helga pressed. "Vhere you too afraid to admit how you feel? That reminds me, I find that photo I saw of you two very believable!"

"**_SHUT UP!_**"

In the next second, Ratchet was lunging towards her quickly with his wrench raised up for a strike; Expecting it, Helga grabbed the head of his wrench with both hands and flipped it, still attached to him, over her head and onto the ground. The small lombax hit the ground back first, the breath leaving him in a sharp gust. Helga yanked his wrench out of his hands and he panicked, grabbing for it but soon found it thrust at his face. He lowered his hands, tilting his head back to glare up at Helga.

"You little rat! Don't theenk vhat you can try to outmanurevr me!" Helga yelled, prodding Ratchet in the head with the metal instrument. "You vill have to be faster than that!"

"_Give_ me my Omniwrench." Ratchet snarled.

"Nien! I vill keep this with me, since you cannot control your temper!"

"I can, but you're too busy intruding into my personal life! It's not your business, and NOBODY else's but CLANK'S and MINES!" Ratchet shouted, jumping up with more speed and agility Helga had seen from him that morning. Good, it was working!

"Vatchet, I thought you said you vere too tired to move!" Helga said coyly. "Eet does not look like it any more! Are you done being a baby?!"

"I'm NOT a baby. And_ I wasn't acting like one!_" Ratchet screamed at her.

"Then show me!" Helga bellowed back, pointing behind the lombax. "Show me vat you aren't one, hero!"

Growling, Ratchet looked around, then stomped his way to the heavy weights sitting across the room. Seizing a forty pound one in both hands he strained, pulling them up for the beginning of the first set. "You wanted weight training? I'll show you weight training, lady!"

"Oh, the little man is upset now!" Helga taunted, moving closer to him. After several seconds, Ratchet began visibly struggling. "Are you biting off more than you can chew, hon?"

"No! Leave me-alone!" He grunted as he lowered the weights again.

"Don't vreak your back over little taunts, lombax!" Helga warned.

Ratchet snorted. "I-know-what-I'm-doing-"

_30 minutes later..._

"Faster, lombax, faster!"

"I am,_ can it_, will you?"

Helga increased the treadmill's speed, forcing Ratchet along at about twenty miles per hour. He was pretty fast, she'll give him that. But how far can he push himself?

"….!" Ratchet tried keeping a generally neutral facade about the whole situation to let Helga know that she wasn't getting to him. It soon became apparent that he was very exhausted only after running for fifteen minutes. He was still tired from earlier outside, and the fact that she was making him run progressively faster was making it worse. Panting now, Ratchet determinedly kept his feet on the treadmill, concentrating on not falling off backwards. Helga increased the speed even more, and Ratchet leaned into his run, not wanting to give up. By several minutes later it felt like his body was about to spontaneously_ combust_ into little lombax fireworks.

Helga watched him, mildly surprised and a trifled annoyed. She didn't expect him to make it this far without complaining.

"Are you going to give up?"

"Ha, in your druh-d-dre-eams!" Ratchet gasped back, shooting her a halfhearted smirk. "You can push me as hard as you can, but I'm not gonna give up!"

"Getting too hot for you, lombax?" Helga shouted, watching him for about another five minutes after cranking up the speed again. By now Ratchet's ears had lowered gradually, and he had actually slowed his running pace, keeping himself generally fixed in the middle/back part of the treadmill. But he still kept his eyes ahead, not about to give in just yet. Helga's question actually flew over his head, he was focusing so hard.

"Vhat are you doing?" Helga cried. "You-are supposed to ve whining and crying! Vut you are not! Vhere is that Ratchet that I know, hmm? He is dying to get out, I'm sure."

'_Course he is_, Ratchet thought, _but I'm not about to let you get your point across so easily._

Suddenly, he felt a cramp in his side and he faltered a bit-too much-

-and went stumbling backwards off the machine. "-OOOH!"

Helga laughed, slapping the side of the treadmill. "Oh ho ho ho ho! I vorgot about you organic life forms and these wee vittle things you call stitches in your side! Such a terrivle distraction."

She went over and stood over Ratchet, who was lying in his side and clutching the left side of his body and grunting.

"Vhere he is! Old Ratchet, here in front of me!"

Ratchet grinded his teeth together, trying to block her out. His ears wouldn't let him, though.

"Sitting on the floor and acting vike a wee child. Stop being weak, lombax!"

"I'm NOT weak!" Ratchet yelled at her, his pupils dilating. "_Stop calling me that!_"

"Zen get up! Stop being stopped by small things! You say you've been through worse, so prove to me that you can go through this!" Helga scolded.

Ratchet threw his free hand up, in a dismissive gesture. "Fine. FINE!" Then, with some obvious difficulty he pushed him self up into a slouching position, then using the treadmill's belt he pushed himself into a shaky standing position. His hand moved up to his side as he panted, " If you think I'm gonna let a small pain stop me, you're wrong as hell-and you better believe I'll keep going."

Helga remained silent, watching the small lombax struggle to keep himself up in a standing position. He was glaring at her, as if daring her to say something about it. And she did.

"Stubborn Ratchet…" Helga muttered. She gave him a slight, lopsided smile-so brief that he almost missed it, "…that is always vhat I kind of…admired about you."

The last three words were almost lost to Ratchet's ears had he not listened closely enough. He tilted his head to the side, a bit perplexed and surprised. He voiced his thoughts:

"You have never given me a compliment in my life. That's…" His nose twitched, and he smiled slightly, "…so weird."

He saw his wrench jabbed at his face, and Helga's harsh features behind it. "You didn't hear anything vrom me, lombax! Just know-" She lowered his wrench, countering his slightly baffled expression with a strict one, "-vhen you're in a situatvation that you think you are stuck in, use that terribly stubborn attitude you have to get yourself vout of it. And I jaust von't mean, saving the galaxy."

Ratchet scrunched up his eyebrows, trying to process Helga's cryptic advice-but the robot was in his face suddenly. "NOW, VE THROW HAMMERS!" She grabbed him.

"What? Throw ham-hungh! Hey, _watch the suit_!"

* * *

**_Um, so how's that?_**

**_Ah, I didn't know how long it takes somebody to get rid of their hangover, but I figured since Ratchet is small his metabolism would kinda speed it up...eh, it made sense in my head. XD_**

**_I positively put Ratchet in the very position I would never want to be when he was with Helga. Sadly, that was my favorite part of writing this story. Is it right to put the characters you love in crappy situations so you can feel like comforting them? :D_**


	5. Chapter 5

8:00 PM

"Ratchet. Ratchet! Wake up."

"Hunh?"

Ratchet opened his eyes slowly, seeing a pair of neon green eyes just in the edges of his peripheral vision. Without moving his head, he asked, "Yeah?"

"You told me to wake you up at approximately 8 PM so you could work on the disabled infobot."

"Oh, yeah…I got home, worked on some gadgets, and fell right asleep…." Ratchet muttered, yawning. He stretched, adding on, "Man, I gotta get caught up on my sleep…I'm still kinda tired from the other day at the bar." He returned to his curled up position on the couch, closing his eyes. There was silence for a few seconds, then he felt someone shaking his shoulder gently.

"I'm not awake." Ratchet smiled, his eyes still closed.

"Maybe so. But when you wake up, the kitchen may be waiting for you."

Ratchet pushed himself up quickly into a wobbly sitting position. "I'm up!" He launched himself off the couch, unexpectedly landing in a furry heap on the floor. Clank stretched out a hand, wondering why the lombax crashlanded.

"_Gah_, I forgot how sore I was…." He dropped his head to the carpeted floor. "Ugh, pal, can ya help me up?"

Clank hopped down, analyzing the situation. The lombax was crumpled on his front with his shoulders touching the floor and his arms lying flat at his sides, but his torso and below area was sticking up in the air. Because of this awkward position, Clank immediately caught sight of Ratchet's tail dangling in front of him as he landed on the ground. The robot paused, scratching his head.

"Uh, Ratchet?"

"Yeah?" The lombax replied sleepily, not really paying attention to the entire situation. And therefore not realizing that his ass was in his friend's face.

"Um, you need to straighten out your…rear end." Clank hinted.

"Can you do it for me?" Ratchet mumbled lazily.

Clank jumped, taken back. "What! How am I to..."

He again looked at the long and skinny segmented object in front of him. He would rather grab Ratchet's tail than handle any other part of the lombax's behind. Yeah, that sounded awkward in his head, even after repeating it one hundred times over the course of six seconds.

Clank reached forward, grasping the tail in his hand. It was soft to the touch, and the robot found himself rubbing it in his hand with curiosity. When Ratchet didn't respond, he tugged back on it gently, with the intent of pulling the lombax's lower body out straight. He backed up, pulling the tail out straight-

"WHOA!"

-and found himself being yanked forward as it jerked back. Startled, Clank let it go as he saw Ratchet spin around to face him. He saw the furry bush disappear behind the lombax.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Not the tail, not the tail!" Ratchet sputtered, waving his hands. He felt his cheeks heat up majorly, and he hoped that Clank couldn't see them in the dim light. The robot was looking right at him, emotionlessly. His head was tilted to the side slightly, and he straightened it as he blinked once and said, "Well, you did tell me to straighten out your body for you."

"I did?" Ratchet asked. He paused, trying to remember. "Oh yeah…well!" He looked down at Clank indignantly before standing up, a bit shaky. "I-I was half asleep! I didn't know what I was saying!" He nervously shifted his feet, rubbing the back of his head. Clank saw the lombax's tail swishing behind him nervously. Clank remained silent, slightly confused by this behavior. It wasn't this often when Ratchet acted like this-well, except for those times where he asked Clank (or vice versa) awkward questions; those times when he asked about…female related topics.

Clank almost chuckled to himself. Yes, he'd never forget the time when Ratchet asked what gestation was-then asking if it could happen to a male like him. After Clank told him what is was and that it was gender-exclusive, the lombax had been acting very much as he was doing now-nervous, embarrassed, and (Clank noticed with slight interest) blushing hard in the cheeks.

Speaking of which, Clank realized that the lombax was still staring down at him, red in the face. Oh, right, the robot hadn't said anything for the past thirty seconds.

"Clank, what are you doing?" Ratchet asked suddenly, his eyes trained very closely on the robot.

Clank held his hands up, shaking his head and trying to look innocent. It didn't work. "I-I was just thinking."

Ratchet took a step closer to him. "About what?"

Clank took a step back. "Uh…."

What should he say? That he was thinking of awkward situations between him and Ratchet?

-even though it seemed that the lombax was already suspicious of just that, watching Clank carefully and waiting for a response. He pressed a bit closer to the robot, one eyebrow popped up in that ever-so familiar expression. "Hmmmm?"

"I was just thinking about that time you asked what gestation was," Clank laughed, deciding to give only half the truth. Ratchet paused, then his already red face got even redder. Clank laughed even harder. "What? I cannot help but to think about it every now and again."

A small, embarrassed, smile appeared on Ratchet's face, then was replaced with a friendly scowl as he announced, "Uh, I'm gonna go now, Clank! You know, to fix the infobot?" And he turned, huffing, and tromped from the room. Clank chortled lightly, watching the agitated lombax's tail disappear around the corner. He rubbed his hands, wishing to have that silky, furry feeling on them-

_No!_ Clank slapped himself mentally._ What am I thinking? I am not to touch his tail again…he doesn't like it…_

He paused.

_But…I cannot deny that it didn't feel good. Oh-one more thing-_

_-I don't know what that tuft at the end feels like._

Clank went and made a cup a tea, trying to distract his mind from wandering to the bush at the end of the lombax's tail. When he picked up a spoon, in his mind it looked for a moment that he was reaching for a smaller and flatter version of Ratchet's tail. It even had the same alternating pattern of colors. He dropped it in surprise, then stared closely at it. It was a spoon. Not a tail. He prodded it gently and was relived to feel the metal touch his finger.

"Spoon. This is a _spoon._" He said aloud in spite of himself, and picked it up. He half chuckled, then broke into a small fit of laughter. "I really need to stop imagining these things…"

Clank traveled back to the couch with his tea, pulling a book aside and burying his head in it. For some reason he couldn't get interested in it. Minutes passed.

Clank raised his head up, snapping the book shut in irritation.

_I cannot concentrate…why?_

He took a sip from his tea, turning his head to look out the window and into the starry sky. He sighed, letting the events of the past few days come up on him. "I sure do hope that Ratchet fixes that infobot soon. It may give us a clue as to what's been going on lately. And who started this ridiculous charade in the first place…

He heard a bug buzzing around his head, and he swatted it away. He hated bugs. "Shoo, shoo!"

Clank shielded his cup with one hand as he got on the table, not wanting the pest to fly in his drink. "Go away!"

It flew circles around his head, then went to land on the window. Clank glared at it, watching as it crawled slowly down the window-then something caught his eye outside. The robot looked closer, then his mouth dropped open. The tea cup fell from his hand, falling with a loud clink. The bug buzzed off as Clank got nearer to the window.

* * *

Ratchet reached in his tool box, pulling out a screwdriver. Lining the prong up correctly, he twisted the bolt into the infobot's body, tightening it. Right now, his room was bit of a mess-there were numerous cords and wires sprawled all over, all in the attempt of Ratchet trying to find the exact right ones to use in the reparation of the infobot's neck. He had, indeed managed to fix that part of the robot, so its head wasn't hanging by several loose and almost snapped cords. He hadn't worked on the actual head itself, so it still had the awful dents and scrapes in it. Right now, however, he was working on fixing the body, and was on a good track-he'd gotten rid of most of the dents on the poor thing's body, and patched up all the areas where it was leaking oil. He was rather proud-it was beginning to look more and more like its old self, without any sign that it'd been assaulted.

Ratchet's eyebrows tightened as he remembered that scene-him walking in slowly through the door, seeing Clank kneeling in the middle in the floor-in oil-it had seemed-then the mess that was the infobot. He remembered still being in a bit of a daze, but that-that alone made him snap out of his hangover. He paused, wondering what would've happened if Clank wasn't with him in bed (yes that sounded weird in his head but he pushed it away) . He suppressed the urge to shiver. Whoever attacked the infobot clearly wanted to destroy any and everything that it contained on it…completely decimating the poor thing.

The lombax's frown grew more pronounced. Infobots were made to give and contain media, and that only-not act in any form of self defense. They were robots, but robots with sentience-and if it weren't for the fact that they couldn't talk, Ratchet was sure that they'd act and behave similarly to organics-maybe. They had emotions, they could show fear, they knew what and when to avoid things-

"-and avoid only." Ratchet growled lowly. "It couldn't have even defended itself if it wanted to. I swear, when I find the damned coward who did this…"

He sighed, giving the robot a once over, then he realized something very strange. He looked at the infobot again, not really concentrating on it, but on the words that Clank had spoken to him days ago.

_I asked them to calm down, but that only seemed to make them angrier-I was afraid that they would have violent intentions, so I provided evident self-defense. When I asked them what was the matter, one particular fellow…presented his infobot to me-that's how I acquired it-and I saw the news broadcast._

_Yeah_, Ratchet thought propping his head up on his left arm, drumming his fingers absentmindedly on the workshop table with his right._ That was when Clank told me about that angry mob-but he __did__ say that someone gave the infobot to him..._

_I figured you would have the reaction you just had, had I shown you that infobot…but I did not want to upset you. I hid it in my chest compartment, just as you had come up and asked…_

Ratchet's fingers paused on the table. _Wait…_

He stood up, crossing his arms, beginning to blindly move around the room, thinking.

"If they had given him that infobot," Ratchet said aloud, "…then who-and why would anyone break into our house just to wring its neck and leave?"

He suddenly felt the hairs on his neck stand up, and he turned around quickly to face the window. No one there. A bug buzzed past him, and he swatted at it lazily with an ear as he wandered over to the window. Leaning on the windowsill, he gazed up at the starry night sky and the cars still ambling along. He intertwined his fingers, resting his hands in front of his mouth.

"One of us had already seen the news cast…and even then, we'd had the infobot for several hours…so whoever broke in had to have known that one of us had seen its report. They _had_ to. So why…?"

He frowned, dropping his eye level so that he was looking straight ahead . "…I had said earlier that it must've had something important on it-but that was before I'd known what was really on it. But even then... _AUUGGHHH_." He grabbed his ears, pulling down in them in frustration. "If the broadcast was over me and Clank apparently unveiling a big secret, then does that mean that the person who trashed the infobot didn't want us to see?!"

He closed his eyes, lowering his head. "That makes no sense. But I can't think of any other reason. Hm." He opened his eyes slightly when he heard a loud clinking noise in the living room, then Clank's metallic footsteps as he walked around.

"Clank did say that it sent him a message that he couldn't understand-hmm. Must've still had its circuits fried and still tried to communicate. But, as it stands, we can't figure anything out until I fix the little guy-so my next top priority is-"

He had begun straightening up, but as he opened his eyes all the way something caught his attention outside. Frowning, Ratchet peered down-and did a sharp intake of breath. It looked like-no.

_Please, no._

His heart began pounding in his chest as he opened the window slowly with shaking fingers, and he drew in a shaky breath as he stuck his head out. Ratchet's fingers gripped the edge of the window sill tightly as he saw that he wasn't imagining things.

"_Oh_ no. Oh _no_."

Ratchet shook his head, keeping his broadened eyes down below.

"A-A-Aph-"

He suddenly realized that a red bulb was visible several feet to his left; however, he and Clank kept their gazes locked down below from their respected windows. Together, they spoke a single word as they stared down in disbelief:

"_Aphelion_."

Their ship-their friend-was lying almost unrecognizable, completely totaled and broken in a giant puddle of gasoline and scrap metal; together, Ratchet and Clank looked down even farther at the message spelled in the black substance, right in front of the ship:

**_'EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED' _**

* * *

**_A/N_**

**_End of Shootin' the Breeze._**

**_This will be continued in another series, before I get shot for leaving it on a cliffhanger. :D_**


End file.
